


Old habits die hard

by Propernicethat



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Drug Use, Emotional Hurt, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2325695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propernicethat/pseuds/Propernicethat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift and Ratchet are on an aid mission at the Dead end's infirmary. Ratchet discovers he doesn't always have the best bedside manner and Drift discovers that old habits die hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old habits die hard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DashWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DashWrites/gifts).



The thunder was loud, and the lightning so bright that it caused the windows to light up and to glow afterwards. Rain was threatening at any moment and the clouds were thick, dark and angry. As it was, the Dead End wasn't exactly the most welcoming place to begin with, the weather aided, making the alleyways more menacing and the people more eager to get their fix so they could return to shelter.

Ratchet was working in the small shack of an infirmary they had there. It was dirty, it was small and it wasn't at all well equipped. He'd brought some tools and extra supplies with him, but now he was regretting that decision to pack lightly. He was hunched over a fembot who'd indulged in one too many boosters. Her optics were wide open and smoke was coming out from her blown open audio receivers, she'd been brought in barely alive and now she was just a husk. 

Ratchet was joined by Stronghold, a mostly chrome and white bot with black accents, he had a transparent visor on the back of his upper shoulders and POLICE written up side down on his back. With his tall but thin size, Ratchet was sure the bot turned into some kind of motorcycle. Above his orange optics were extra visors, one blue and one red, head lights when in his alt mode. Regardless of his appearance, the slim bot was a good aid to Ratchet and had done well with the patients who visited. 

"I have to go out and find most of them myself, Ratchet, they want aid but they don't want to seek it."

Came the Italian accent from the police motorcycle.

"That's because the high is too good to give up on, when you have nothing left, the high becomes the only meaning of life, nothing else matters."

Came a voice from the doorway. Drift had been chosen to go with Ratchet on this aid mission, after all he knew the Dead end better than anyone and knew how the patients ticked.

"The weather isn't improving out there, a building down the street just got hit by lightning."

The mostly white bot shook himself off gently, water trickling down his handsome frame. Ratchet watched, silent for a moment as he observed his mission partners form in a non professional manner for a moment. 

"It's getting late, I'll be in the main segment if you need me."

Stronghold spoke, while walking off down into the main room, where he had his reception and waiting room for the rundown clinic.

Ratchet quickly shifted his gaze, but when those optics crept back over, he realised Drift was staring into space.

"Everything okay?"

The medic questioned gruffly, lifting himself from the table and placing the remainder of his tools down. The dead fembot had gone grey, Ratchet placed a blanket over her respectfully. Drug addict or not, she was still dead.

"That could have been me."

Drift said slowly, turning those glossy blue visuals to the medic, approaching closer but keeping his distance from the table. Ratchet waved him off, turning as he rolled his optics, wheeling the small table over to the cleaning area.

"You're fine, kid. Look at you now, don't think about the past. That wasn't you. You're nothing like these time wasting boosterheads, you're better than them."

"The past is a part of who I am..who I was, I learned from it, I'll never forget it."

"Truth be told? They should employ the medics in these facilities elsewhere, this is a waste of time when they could be healing and aiding bots that actually want the help."

"I didn't think I wanted help..If I hadn't been helped that day Optimus showed up I'd have been offline, I wouldn't be here now!" 

Drift snapped, irritated by Ratchet's words, how could the medic possibly understand? He clenched his fists. He'd seen so much poverty today, he'd seen so much fear and desperation and hunger, the place hadn't changed at all and nobody cared.

"Forget about them, come on, the sooner I've finished with this place the sooner we can leave and never think about it again...can't believe I signed up for this in the first place."

When he turned around the door was swinging and Drift had gone though it.

"...ah scrap. Come on kid!"

Ratchet moved to the door, as he leaned his head out the lightning lit up the sky and the thunder boomed moments later.

He moved out, his frame being pelted by hail stones, the sky lit up again as he moved down the dirty alleyway and into the main street. He looked left and right, walking and looking down the alleyways. 

"Drift? Come on, we can talk. You can talk to me."

He tried not to care, tried to just do his job and remain professional, but as Pharma had always said "you do nothing but care, Ratchet." He didn't even notice the tall purple flyer walking over to him, scarlet optics narrowed on his frame.

"You lost something?"

He sneered, easily two heads taller than the medic. 

"...Mostly white, sword on his back, grounder."

Ratchet snapped, he really didn't want to have to communicate with the locals.

"Dunno where your pretty little fragbuddy is fella, but hey, I'll tell you what. You're a medic right?"

Ratchet nodded, taking a step back.

"I got a real bad case of rust infection, maybe you could take a good look at it? Maybe even really inspect it..With that pretty little mouth of yours old timer."

Ratchet was both horrified and insulted, he frowned backing off.

"You could be dying right here on the floor right now, kid, and I still wouldn't go anywhere near you. Now if you're not going to help me, would you kindly take your rust infected aft somewhere else."

The medic snapped, storming past the still shocked pervert. He continued looking but after three earth hours had passed, he returned to the facility.

Drift had beaten him there, soaked to the core and freezing cold to the touch, sat down in the small berthroom he and Ratchet had to share. Ratchet immediately moved over, angry at first.

"Drift, I've been looking all over for you in this primus forsaken place. Don't run off like that."

He grumbled, his words softened as he pulled the blanket from the berth and threw it around the white bot's trembling frame. 

"Easy now. .I'm sorry."

The medic said gently, edging closer to Drift before wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to be insensitive.

He tried to patch things up, but Drift stared forward in silence, his frame still trembling.

"Wing...I miss him. I miss Wing."

He said gently. Ratchet noticed Drift's optics were wider than usual, and the tremble on his form wasn't the cold at all, it was from a high.

"...Drift you-.."

"I MISS HIM!"

He shouted, springing up into a stand, bringing his hands to his faceplate. Ratchet raised his hands, standing also.

"Easy there kid...ssshh."

He carefully took the blanket, easing it around Drift's form. 

"I want him here, it's too much, I can't take it, it's no good, he isn't here anymore, I still need guidance."

Drift's words rang over one another, he began to vent heavily, his fingers twitching and his visuals wide with fear and panic. 

"I can't be alone, don't leave me alone."

He rambled, suddenly gripping onto Ratchet, who in return embraced him.

"Easy...ssshh it's alright Drift, I'm here, don't be scared."

The medic spoke gruffly against the frightened bot's audio receiver. Drift wasn't himself, the drugs had scrambled him, Ratchet knew he just had to wait it out, for now he needed to keep Drift safe and calm. 

"You'll be gone, like Wing, you'll leave me. I'll change, I'm a monster...All those bots,  all those bots I've killed!"

He wailed, Ratchet continued to hold him, carefully stroking down Drift's back as he began to walk him to the berth. Carefully he lay him down, moving to stand up when he realised Drift wouldn't let go, his trembling fingers gripping on tightly.

"Don't go..don't go.."

He whimpered. Ratchet sighed, slowly lowering himself onto the berth, facing the white bot on his side.

"What a mess you've got yourself in, kid."

He slowly stroked Drift's crest, the white bot flinched, closing his optics tightly for a moment.

"Ssshh.."

Ratchet kept stroking, easing Drift carefully, he ran a hand down his cheek, down his neck then back up to his crest. The things he did for bots in need, he thought, watching as Drift slowly went into recharge. He went to lift his form and Drift flinched, clutching on. 

"Wing. .don't go."

Another sigh from the medic as he lowered himself back down. As the rain continued to pelt the building noisily, and the lighting relentlessly striking the air, Ratchet knew this was going to be a long night.


End file.
